


Weirdmageddon

by orphan_account



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Human!Bill, Older!Dipper, ive read too many fanfictions of this ship in my sparetime, loads of angst because i'm me, mindgames are cool, probably some smut later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-10 21:09:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5601052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bill's angry at the boy that's ruining all of his plans. But he can't resist having a little fun. After all, such a hardworking demon like himself needs to take a break.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 2:51 AM  
> gg
> 
> also happy new years! :-)

Bill Cipher. 

That was his name. He was a dangerous dream demon with enough power to be considered king of the gods. Never mind king, he would be god of the gods! All these oddballs that he considered his friends were demons like himself, powerful enough to destroy a puny little human's mind in the matter of moments, and yet they could never compare their power to that of Bill's. He was probably the strongest being ever!

_And yet..._

That little thought always sent surges of electricity surging through his triangular body, sometimes forming into real energy and zapping at a few pillars. The damage would just repair itself, and he wished getting out of Gravity Falls was just as easy as putting that support back together.

But someone had managed to put up a force field around the hellhole known as Wierdmaggedon and had trapped demons, had trapped _Bill fucking Cipher_ , into this confinement of destruction. Oh, he knew who.

The two little minds that had caused him so much trouble before.

Sixer and the little Pine Tree. Before Sixer turned into that little golden figurine Bill now used as a back scratcher, he had managed to tell Pine Tree what he needed to do.

It was a small little chant in an unnoticed section of the third journal. Sixer had done enough work to only have this much to be said. And three little words in Latin made a huge difference.

He slammed his ebony hands, that were currently curled into tight fists, onto the armrests of his newly built throne. That seemed to get the other demons' attention. A few of the humans that had turned to stone snapped in half or crumbled. 

Whatever. It's not like they were conscious anyway.

Maybe.

Pain was hilarious, so what did it matter? He had experienced it when he had taken over Pine Tree's body as a vessel. Foolish boy was desperate enough to slip right into his trap.

But now Bill was trapped. And he wanted this kid to feel just the way that he did. 

Things always managed to go his way in the end, even after Gideon had let the redhead and Pine Tree go. He would get what was coming for him after he dealt with the brown haired child that had caused him so much trouble. He knew they were coming. He had an all seeing eye, of course he knew things!

He relaxed back into the throne, hollering out to his acquaintances in his usual sing-song voice. "My friends, the party has just begun! We'll be enjoying ourselves much more when a certain group shows up." _If they don't get killed along the way or driven insane by all of those spheres of madness floating around,_ he mused to himself, fixing his bow tie. _Doubt Pine Tree would go down without a fight, though. The kid even tried to punch me! What a kick!_ The demons howled in response, throwing up whatever liquid that was in their cup into the air. Funny, Bill didn't remember getting any drinks for the party. That's right- because he _didn't!_ They can be drinking their own bodily fluids for all he cared. Hey, they were having fun. Better for them to be riled up anyway.

-

Around ten minutes after they did arrive, and how Bill loved the way his blood boiled in excitement and anger when his single eye rested on Pine Tree's beaten, bruised, scratched body. He was holding his arm down by his side, and the dream demon found joy in registering the fact that he had probably caused all of his wounds, just by throwing him at an oak tree so he could burn the three journals in peace. 

"Well, well, well! Isn't it my favorite meatsack, Pine Tr-"

"Enough with this, Bill! Give us our Uncle Ford back and the residents of Gravity Falls! We want our home back!" The brown-haired boy barked, his eyebrows knit. The redhead next to him opened her mouth to chide in but Bill didn't give her a chance. He never liked the girl, anyway. In a flash he was in front of the boy, his eye had stretched out to ten times its size, casting a shadow on Dipper. "What do you have in mind this time, Pine Tree? Are you going to try and punch me again? Go on now, don't be shy! The human body has two-hundred and six bones, and I'd love to break the ones I haven't already!"

The creature of infinite power stared down at the thirteen year old, who was clutching his white and blue hat with tight fists and white knuckles, eyes staring hard at the floor. How he loved to watch the little gears work behind this kid's eyes, especially how fast they would turn whenever he was in a panicked state like this. And when Dipper would stutter something out, some pitiful way on how he would save this useless town from the triangular being's wrath he could barely stifle his laughter. Such a hopeful boy!

"Pine Tree," he suddenly rumbled out, and he shrank back to his normal size, floating right in front of the boy. "You have made a horrible, _horrible_ mistake by making me angry."

The boy's eyes flickered up, and he swallowed dryly, trying to choke back the fear crawling up his throat. "You won't get away with this, Bill!"

"Oh, but watch me. I'm going to put you in a bubble similar to the one Shooting Star was in, just without a key! A world just for you!" A pause.

"Who says I can't have a little more fun with you, though?"

Dipper was about to scream. He had never felt so scared, so frightened in his life. His blood had turned to ice and he could barely move, barely hear over the sound of his heartbeat pumping in his ears. But before the sound even made it to the tip of his tongue, everything went black.

He was still conscious.

_Mabel,_

Couldn't open his eyes.

_Grunkle Stan,_

Or were they already open?

_Grunkle Ford,_

Was he surrounded in darkness?

_Wendy,_

He didn't know.

_Soos,_

All he felt

_When I wake up from whatever dream Bill has put me in,_

was alone.

_please..._

_Be okay._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's in the dream bubble Bill has put him in. He knows that. But can he keep that in mind while experiencing the life he's always wanted?

He hadn't known how long it had been; minutes, hours, days, until he finally opened his eyes. 

He was staring up at a brown wooden ceiling, and he waited until his vision cleared to survey the room. He raised himself up into a sitting position, looking around.

It was his room.

In the Mystery Shack.

A seed of happiness seemed to sprout in his heart, his chest swelling with glee. He twisted himself around, ready to let himself hop out of bed and onto the floor.

But what surprised him was how fast his feet hit the wooden floorboards.

The warm feeling in his torso faded into a chilling shard of ice, and he remembered.

That this was a dream. It wasn't reality.

He rose up to his feet, unfamiliar with the way muscles moved awkwardly beneath his skin. He raised his hands up to his face, cupping his cheeks to feel a bit of stubble, running his fingers through the mess of his hair to find it was a little longer but unkempt as always. 

This was Bill's master plan? To make him older?

Dipper nearly laughed, heading to the door of his bedroom and down the stairs. So _diabolical!_ Once he got to the bottom of the stairs he could smell pancakes. Stanley's pancakes. They were called Grunkle Stan's pancakes for a reason, and that was because his hair would sometimes end up in the flapjacks. 

He poked his head into the kitchen, and saw his grandfather standing there over the stove, a frying pan resting on the surface with batter in the middle. He looked as good as he did when Dipper had seen him in reality, besides how he moved a bit slower and looked a tad frail. 

After staring for a few moments the man finally saw Dipper poking his head through the kitchen. "Why're you starin', kid? Too thrilled to wait for my special pancakes?"

"Not-" He hesitated. This lower voice had surprised him, and he took a few moments to process before clearing his throat and continuing. "Not really."

"Your loss."

A smile cracked at the corners of his lips, retreating from the kitchen and into the living room. He let his fingers trail across the chair Grunkle Stan always sat in whenever watching his favorite shows. His eyes trailed over to the paper scattered across the ground, ideas and strategies for the board game he had played with-

Grunkle Ford.

His heartbeat quickened, and he raced back into the kitchen, causing Stan to jump and nearly drop the hotcake in the pan. "Watch it, kid! I may be old enough to have a heart attack, but I'm not too old to go and-"

"Grunkle Stan, have you seen Grunkle Ford?"

The man paused, staring at Dipper with a look of confusion before letting out an airy chuckle. It was the same laugh, as rusty as the hinges on an old door. "It's been a while since you've called us Grunkle, kid. And he's downstairs in the basement, as always."

He nodded, feeling that little buzz of happiness in his midsection once again. He left the kitchen and headed over to the vending machine, popping in the correct code into the pad before it slid to the side, revealing a hidden doorway and stone stairs leading down to the lower level. He hurried inside, placing his palms on the walls for support to make sure he didn't trip as he hurried down the steps.

He was alive.

Ford was alive.

He was-

He stopped at the bottom, heaving for breath with wide eyes, staring around the room.

His eyes rested on the man he had been looking for, the three journals stacked in front of him. He turned to look at Dipper, and the boy felt tears well up in his eyes.

"Hey, Dipper."

That's when he lost his cool. (Mabel would have said otherwise, probably something like how he wasn't even cool in the first place.) He ran over to his grandpa, catching him by surprise when he brought his arms around the man, crying into his shoulder.

Ford stared at the boy, wondering what had happened to make him appear like... this. But he raised a hand, setting it on the back of Dipper's head.

His body would convulse with every shaky sob he released.

He was so happy.

Ford wasn't made of gold.

He was back to normal.

He wanted to stay just like this.

And that's when he realized how much of a genius Bill Cipher really was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was fun to write, even though not much happened in it- but don't worry, things are gonna spice up in later chapters! :^)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A certain tourist captures Dipper's attention, and he can't help but feel suspicious.

After he had cried his eyes out into his Grunkle Ford's shoulder for who knows how long, he hesitantly peeled back. His cheeks stung with the salt of his tears, and he could tell they were raw and bright red. But, of course, Stanford didn't make fun of the kid. He knew that something had probably happened to Dipper, whether it be a nightmare or something more, and wasn't going to probe. When his grandson was ready, he would let him spill. But for now, he was going to let the boy keep his privacy.

Dipper reached up with hands that were still shaking, even though it was barely noticeable, and wiped his eyes with the heel of his hand. "Uh... well, sorry about this..."

"There is no reason to apologize, Dipper."

He chuckled, sniffling and blinking to clear away the remaining water in his eyes. "I guess you're right. So, what're you working on?"

"A request from Stanley. Yesterday he caught some gnomes harassing a few tourists and wanted me to put up a barrier around the shack."

"I... I see." He was a bit surprised Grunkle Ford would agree to do something for his brother. Maybe they were getting along now? Never say never, after all. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I'm just finishing up right about now. All I need is some mercury, which I have stored down here."

"Oh- okay. Don't be afraid to call me when you need help around and stuff."

"I'm not that old yet, Dipper."

"No, I meant- ugh, okay, see you Grunkle Ford." Dipper noticed how he was given the same look of surprise that Stan had given him, but Ford only nodded, turning back around. With a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips he walked back upstairs, making sure that the vending machine slid back into its original spot when he exited. 

"Dipper!"

He paused when he heard a woman's voice calling his name, and he looked around, eyes resting on no other than his twin sibling. 

Mabel.

Of course, she had grown as well. She no longer had braces, he could tell because she was smiling brightly at him with beautiful, pearly white teeth. She had gotten a hair cut, her brown curls barely going past her shoulders. Mabel was still taller than him, which Dipper was disappointed in. Even in the dream realm she could still call herself the _alpha twin_. But what remained the same was how she was wearing a sparkly, handmade sweater with rainbows and colorful patterns and stitched letters spelling out 'MABEL'S SWEATER'. How she wore purple shorts and a pink headband to hold her bangs back. She was wearing black sandals and socks, too. Some things just never got old, or in Mabel's case, out of style.

"We've got customers, and I just so happen to be on break- where's your hat, Dip-Dop?"

He hesitated. He had been in such a rush to look around that he forgot about his favorite possession- his blue and white hat he had gotten when he had first visited the Mystery Shack. Of course, he had to pay with it with his own money. Stanley was a merciless man. "Oh, I must have left it upstairs."

"Well, hurry up and go get it! It's better for the tourists to see how good our merchandise looks on people!"

"You sound like Grunkle Stan."

" _Psh_ , just go get it!"

Dipper chuckled and headed upstairs to go grab his hat.

Today was going to be a good day.

-

Once he had returned downstairs, fixing the cap on his curly brown mess of hair, he had taken over for Mabel. He had helped the customers around a few times before in reality-

Right. Dream realm, Dipper.

Anyway, back to the topic. He had taken over the job for Stan a few times before, and it was pretty easy, just leading them around the store and showing them what they had for sale. So that's what he did, showed them around, gave them a few interesting facts. He always found it calming, just walking around the Mystery Shack and telling people these very false tidbits about very fake mythical creatures.

That was until a certain blond walked into the shack.

His wavy gold locks were swept over one eye, skin bronze and dotted with freckles. He wore a simple yellow sweatshirt and black slacks and some worn and dirty white sneakers. Seemed like the average teenager.

Why Dipper feel so uncomfortable around this dude? He didn't even look at Dipper, but when he did, he felt flight or fight crackle beneath his skin, his teeth gritting against each other. He couldn't turn away, and was thankful when the boy looked away at some spider-unicorn statue. Which was, obviously, just a sham to get people to buy stuff. 

So much for today being a good day. Now he had to deal with worrying about this stranger. Something in his gut told him that the blond was dangerous, so he had to keep his eyes on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oblivious dipper is oblivious


	4. Chapter 4

He let out a long, heavy sigh he had been holding in for a painful fifteen minutes.

Dipper had finished showing a group around, and the mysterious blond didn't do anything, which hadn't surprised Dipper. He was just an _average teen_. Nothing very special about him, besides how he overall looked pretty handsome. He wasn't and simply couldn't deny that factor. After all, teenage hormones were a pretty powerful thing. 

He guessed it would be a few minutes until more visitors showed up, since the group he had been leading around was fairly big in quantity. He sat down on a stool next to the counter where Wendy stood behind the cashier. She, unsurprisingly, looked older. He lifted his hat off of his hair, setting brown wavy curls free, setting the cap onto the counter-top. Dipper drew his fingers through his hair, eyes raising as he noticed Wendy's gaze. "Hey, you okay, man?"

"Yeah. Just a bit of a headache." 

The redhead frowned. "Want me to get some medicine? Ibuprofen?" 

"Thanks, but it'll pass soon."

She nodded slowly, and leaned over from where she sat, gifting Dipper with a kiss.

And, oh boy. It wasn't on the cheek either.

It was short, more of a peck or anything, but it was enough to leave the boy wide-eyed and red-faced, the gears in his mind working hard to try and process what had just happened. He could feel his ears burning, and he could imagine how his face quite possibly resembled a strawberry or a tomato right about now. Or maybe a beet. But who likes beets? Then again, tomatoes weren't the best tasting vegetable... fruit...

He snapped himself out of his daze, and found that he had absently been playing with the cuffs of his plaid shirt. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't really paid attention to what he had been wearing. A plaid red shirt with a navy vest thrown over it, blue jeans that looked too old for wear, and some sneakers. Guess his style hadn't changed just like Mabel's hadn't. 

"That was a get better kiss." Wendy finally broke the uncomfortable silence, and Dipper released a sheepish laugh. "Oh, well, thanks."

"No problem. Maybe later you can get a few more for free, yeah?"

His lips pursed in his embarrassment, clutching his hat tightly as he raised it up, setting it on his head and bringing the brim rather low, nearly covering his eyes. "O-okay," he choked out, and the way his voice sounded, feeble and barely audible, didn't help his situation very much. He could hear Wendy chuckle, but his eyes were focused on the wooden surface of the counter.

What was his relationship with Wendy? He had developed a crush on her in the past, but he had gotten over it.

Hadn't he?

Well, okay. Maybe not.

And then he felt the eyes of someone staring.

His doe brown eyes flickered over to the figure watching him, and he predicted it was the blond. 

He wasn't wrong.

Chocolate eyes met... green? Hazel? He hadn't noticed the teenager's eyes before, but they seemed to be flecked with gold.

And how _gorgeous_ they were, but intimidating all at the same time. He found himself shrink into himself a bit under the boy's gaze, shoulders hunching as he built the power to pull his eyes away. He glanced over to Wendy, and could tell that she was eyeing the blond herself, an eyebrow raised. He must have walked off, because Wendy looked back to the cash register, playing with the buttons. Dipper hoped she didn't break anything, or Stan would probably find a way to make them _all_ pay repairs.

He rose up from where he was seated, wanting to find Grunkle Stan to ask where he kept the medicine. An Ibuprofen seemed like a good idea right about now.

Until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

He turned, expecting to meet the eyes of a customer, but had to look upwards to see the face of who had gotten his attention.

It was the blond.

Dipper swallowed dryly, then offered a fake smile. "Is there anything you nee-"

"All I need is your name."

He blinked, eyebrows furrowing at he gazed up at the boy that looked around his age.

Did he even know his age in this dream world?

Eh, maybe around sixteen to eighteen. He'd ask Mabel later.

"I'm Dipper," he answered slowly, tasting the words on his tongue. "Dipper Pines."

"Pines? As in a Pine Tree? And Dipper as in the _Little Dipper_? Well, you _are_ pretty short-"

" _Big_ Dipper!" He corrected, even though it was more of a stretch, because the birthmark on his head represented either the big or little dipper. "And _you_ are?"

"William. William Couclelis."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few more surprises never hurt anyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's a drawing of bill if any of you are curious about his appearance: 
> 
> http://sydneymr.deviantart.com/art/human-bill-cipher-581779174

Dipper raised an eyebrow. He knew the majority of all the residents in Gravity Falls, and this name didn't happen to ring a bell, only send waves of electricity to his toes and fingertips. He forced his shoulders and the tendons in his neck to relax, releasing a breath. "Are you new to Gravity Falls?"

"Yep, I came here for job opportunities, and now I'm a professor at the high school. Pretty small town, it only has one."

Sorry, what had he said past being a _professor_? 

"Uh, do you mind me asking how old you are?"

"Not at all. I'm twenty-four."

So much for being a teen. He was still trying to wrap around the whole age ordeal before he heard the blond speaking.

"-you?"

The brunette snapped himself out of his thoughtfulness, looking up to meet William's gaze. "...repeat that question?"

He chuckled. "And if you don't mind _me_ asking, how old are _you_?"

Oh lord. He didn't even know. "I don't give my age to strangers."

"I'm not a stranger, I told you my name and my age."

"Maybe you're lying, how should I know?"

"I'm not lying, and by the looks of you you're, hmm... sophomore? Junior? You'll be seeing me in one of your classes."

"That could just make you a stalker."

"You're real funny, kid."

"I'm no kid."

"In my eyes you're classified as one."

Dipper decides to end the argument with a "Whatever," heading back to the counter with a huff, taking a seat.

"What's up with that guy?" Wendy inquired, her eyes looking over to Dipper.

"Apparently he's a professor at the high school. A new one."

The redhead scowled, putting her chin in her palm. "I don't like him."

"You haven't even met him."

"But you have."

He hesitates. Was she _jealous_? He could laugh, it seems to much out of her character, but he doesn't. Instead fidgets in the chair, an uncomfortable atmosphere settling over the pair before she decides to speak. "Well, good luck tomorrow with that man, Dipper."

"Thanks," he huffs out, slumping. "I think I'll need it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry this chapter is poorly written and short im just
> 
> idk


	6. SCREAMS

IM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT aaAAAAaa I GOT SO CAUGHT UP IN STUFF  
I'LL BE RETURNING TO THIS FANFIC SOON I PROMISE


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Highschool couldn't be so bad.  
> Could it?

So, today was Monday.

Which also meant the first day of high school. 

Which also meant _doomsday_.

Let's get this straight, Dipper isn't easily frightened. He's fought gnomes, shape-shifters, ghost lumberjacks, dream demons, and anything you can think off. But right now, his anxiety levels were off the chart, sky-high. His palms were sweaty, there were butterflies in his stomach, and he kept trying to flatten his hair down with no avail and that made him look so stupid oh my god why did he have to have hair like this-

Thinking about it, it's funny, because Dipper knows that this is just a world separate from the real one, a smaller copy molded into what Bill wants it to be. What he wants Dipper to think, to believe, to feel. 

But here he was, walking down the sidewalk with his familiar but unfamiliar twin sister, towards the high school in Gravity Falls that he's never been to or has even existed.

Fortunately, Dipper had a few things covered. He had managed to get information about his locker location and combination from Mabel (why she knew his combination only God knows), and he had gotten a print-out copy of his schedule from Grunkle Stan. Good to know he could always count on his family, even in a fake reality. Way to go. 

Once they reached the school and entered through the front doors he was surprised by how full the hallways were, unfamiliar faces brushing and pushing past him every second. Mabel had parted to go to her own locker, while Dipper had to search to find his, swallowing dryly. Fishing the location of his locker out from his memory he strode down the hall, trying to not touch as many people as he could. Germs are gross.

Finally after what seemed like forever he found it, putting in his combination into the lock with a few turns and opening the locker.

It seemed that Bill couldn't waste his time on such trivial matters on giving Dipper the proper supplies he needed for his classes. Today was going to be a good day, Dipper could already tell.

Sarcasm is amazing.

His first class was history, which he got to after maneuvering through the crowded hallways and surviving the chaotic flying paper planes and spitballs. 

And when he entered the classroom he could feel his heart _stop_.

It was William, sitting at a desk in front of piles of papers and a computer, and he swore when the professor looked over he _winked_.

Dipper swallowed dryly, his movements now as rusty as a robot that needed its joints refreshed with oil, taking a seat in the last row because if he sat any closer to the teacher he didn't think he would be able to focus.

Not that it mattered where he sat, because he would be too caught up in the man's beautiful eyes anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> saving all the good stuff for the next chapter ahhahahhaha


End file.
